


the very last straw

by armethaumaturgy



Series: Multiverse #379 [2]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Error-Centric, FGOD Error, Fights, Gen, Major Character Injury, Setup for a series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:47:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27672887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/armethaumaturgy/pseuds/armethaumaturgy
Summary: All around him was white, an expanse of nothingness spilling as far as the eye could see. Error could laugh. And hedidlaugh.Oh, this was hilarious!Ink had sent him to the Anti-void, of all places!Or did he...?
Series: Multiverse #379 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2023511
Comments: 1
Kudos: 58





	the very last straw

The battlefield was filled with the sound of static.

Or maybe that was all just in his head, as per usual.

Strings, however, did litter the field, traps set up over the course of their battle — which was proving to already be going on for too long. Ink didn’t seem to care and simply cut through a section with his brush.

Error swore, voice garbled even to his own awful standard. He couldn’t catch a fucking break. One-handedly swiping to trip his adversary, he used the other to put pressure on his broken rib. Or ribs. He wasn’t sure.

Blue marrow seeped from him, dripping to the dusty ground of the AU. The error and warning messages within it were flashing way too fast for anyone to make them out.

Ink’s focus was purely on him, despite Nightmare and the rest of the gang being nearby and engaged in their own fight against Dream and Blue. His eyelights kept flickering between symbols and colors, though red seemed much too prominent today. Might have something to do with the half-full red vial on the artist’s sash.

The ground rumbled and Error almost lost his footing for a second, gritting his teeth as pain flared from his (also probably broken) leg. The code of the AU was breaking down, and what a great time for it, too. Absolutely spectacular. Error cursed Fate, inside his mind and then out loud.

“‘Mare!” he yelled out, “It’s breaking! We need to get out, now!” 

Stupid Ink and his stupid fucking periods of inspiration! Error had been working overtime for weeks now, trying to keep the Multiverse from imploding in on itself, and just like that, in the span of a couple hours, all his hard work was rendered completely moot. 

“We’re leaving!” Nightmare called back, as much to Error as to the others.

Cross and Horror fell back immediately, followed closely by Killer, but Dust couldn’t help one last swipe at Blue, who was just in time to block the knife with his hammer. One of Nightmare’s tentacles, even as charred and thin as it looked, winding around him was enough for him to give it up, however. Nightmare had a portal waiting for them.

Error’s next plan of action consisted of; 1) opening a portal and 2) getting the hell out of there before Ink could come into range again. There were a couple problems to this plan from the get-go, though. Mainly the fact that in the time it took Error to ascertain that the whole gang was (relatively) safe, Ink had somehow manifested in his personal space, and was swiping his brush downwards at him.

It was with a stuttering gasp that he jumped back, abandoning his injury to pull more strings from one of his sockets. 

“No you don’t!” Ink growled. He wasn’t much better off than Error, but all the injuries seemed almost nonexistent to him, in his rage. It had been a long time since Error had seen Ink this angry. “I’m sick of my creations dying to you!”

Ink’s brush missed him by a thread, and he would’ve laughed at the pun, in any other situation. No, instead Ink’s brush splattered paint all over the snow, and he reached out with his free hand and grabbed Error by his jacket.

“Let go, squid!” Error hissed, glitches swarming the point of contact. "Fucking let go!"

“Oh, I will!”

And, true to his word, Ink did. But not before yanking him down and shoving him into the puddle of black. The relief of not being touched anymore didn’t even have the time to set in; he panicked as the paint swallowed him up, and his glitches came back ten folds.

He fell through the paint, and came out the other side as if through a portal.

“Shit!” He landed with a painful crack, and if he hadn’t had multiple broken ribs before, he sure as hell did now. His whole chest burned with the pain, and it took a while for the glitches to clear out of his vision, not that that helped much.

All around him was white, an expanse of nothingness spilling as far as the eye could see. He could laugh. And he _did_ laugh.

Oh, this was _hilarious_!

Ink had sent him to the Anti-void, of all places!

Granted, it was a corner of it with nothing inside; none of his strings, none of his souls or dolls, but it was undoubtedly the Anti-void. The feeling of it was familiar, and he was sure as long as he followed it, he’d eventually find his spot. He’d curl up in one of the hammocks, sleep off the injuries, and check up on Nightmare and his gang. Then he’d get his revenge.

So, once again holding his chest — and yep, there was unmistakably multiple broken ribs there, yep! ouch! — he picked a direction and started walking. His feet made no sound on the ground, and the white passed him by without passing him by.

He walked, and walked, and sometimes he stopped to scream curses at the blank surroundings, but then he walked again.

Time never made sense in the Anti-void, but it felt like he’d walked for hours, with nothing in sight, and his wounds leaving a trail of flickering blue behind him as the only thing to indicate he’d already been there. 

Eventually, his patience ran thin, and he cursed himself (and also nothing, because what else was there to even curse at around right now?) and decided to open a portal. He’d pop out at Nightmare’s castle, steal whatever-the-hell-dish was on tonight’s menu, and pop back in, in _his_ place.

He waved a hand, breathing in a stuttering gasp as the pressure on his ribs lifted and a new wave of neon-blue marrow oozed out, and tried to force the code to bend to his will. Emphasis on _tried_ , because it refused to open a portal for him.

Panic seized his whole being. His hand shook. He tried to open another portal, and another, and another — to Underfell, to the original timeline, he even tried Underswap as one point.

And none of them opened.

He looked around himself again. Nothing but white, uninterrupted and unending. And his sad, pathetic little trail of marrow, dwarfed by the _nothing_ all around. His glitches surged, and covered up the sight bit by bit, until he couldn’t see it. He didn’t know if it was a blessing or a curse at this point.

He crashed.

**Author's Note:**

> welcome to error has a heck and then an un-heck series  
> this will mostly be a series of one shots set in the multiverse ink has exiled error to; stay tuned!


End file.
